Demonds of Lisbon's
by Shazzie
Summary: "That was when the day took the most drastic twist you could imagine. That was when she went down the course in which her entire team would find out more about her, about her past, then anyone in this world knew. That was when the life she knew fell into pieces." T for now, will contain violent scenes, and completely AU from season 6, so no spoilers :) Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- Okay, it's been ages since I last posted a story and this is a really different take from what I would normally do, so I'm totally out of my comfort zone here. It's completely and totally AU and has nothing to do with anything around season 6- I cant make up my mind if I liked the RJ reveal yet, and I'm up for a debate or two about it :') So please review this and tell me how I'm doing and if you want me to carry on :) **

That day…. It had started normally. It had nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary to make her think…

But then…

She had woken up after the same dream had plagued her once more. Stumbled out of bed and flicked on the coffee machine. She had dragged her feet, tired and aching from her lack of sleep, to the front door, picked up her post and walked back in. She drank her coffee, she pulled on her slacks.

Nothing unusual.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

She was the first to the office. She was the one to receive the call- grisly murder in Malibu, the man who found the body was believed to have some kind of a connection with her.

Great. A murderer with a connection to a cop, high up in the CBI.

So she picked up her phone and dialled the numbers, she called her team and got into her car, ready and anticipating the day of paperwork and - hopefully- a quickly closed case ahead.

Her team where there when she had arrived. Looking forlorn, their breaths heavy with the knowledge that their boss, once again, was connected to a murder like this. A murder with a motive.

A murder with a motive that was so clear and yet, so hidden away.

As they saw her pull up, they stood and walked into the large house of some rich billionaire of the streets of Malibu. She followed closely behind, catching up with Cho whilst he gave her the debriefing. Told her the victims name, his job, his identity.

His past.

And then they walked into the house, the house that smelt of burgundy and money, the house that held enough money purely in the rugs that lay on the floor to end starvation in at least twenty countries.

That was when the day took the most drastic twist you could imagine. That was when she went down the course in which her entire team would find out more about her, about her past, then anyone in this world new. That was when the life she knew fell into pieces.

She stumbled backwards when she saw him. His dark brown hair, the same glow it had the last time she had seen him, twenty years ago. Her arms flung backwards as she fell towards the floor, desperate to get away. His eyes, the same green eyes that sat in her head. Everything that had been on the table fell to the floor smashing into a million pieces as she moved as far away from him as she could. His burned skin, not the normal pale of an Irishman, but dark, brown, tanned from the fires that had burned him. Her team gathered around her, standing towards the man, threatening glares on their faces.

"Teresa?"

His heavy Irish accent, the way he moved towards her, reaching out as if he had seen an angel. That same… Terrifying grin, the crooked teeth that she had left him with, after endless bouts of trying to protect herself from the monster inside of him.

It was him.

But… It couldn't have been. He's dead. After all she's been through, all she's seen, she's clung onto the fact that she knows he is dead. HE. IS. DEAD!

And yet… there he stood. In front of her eyes, stepping towards her only to be held back by Rigsby and Cho. Repeating, over and over again.

"Teresa?" Rolling the s into a z, pronouncing the r as a ree, making her name sound as Irish as possible.

"Teresa?" Stepping forwards again. He was so much bigger then them both, both Rigsby and Cho together could not hold him off.

"Teresa?" The endless torment, the endless ringing of the way he pronounced her name, the one word that kept her awake at night, every night.

"Teresa?"

He knew it was her. After all of these years, after all of this time. He knew.

And he lunged forwards, aiming for her neck.

**To be continued... (If you want me to)**


	2. Chapter 2

Her alarm buzzed, waking her from her light, nightmare plagued sleep. She rolled over and turned it off, sighing as she fell back into her bed.

This was always the easiest part of a day.

Waking up.

No worries, no stress, nothing. Just peace.

She didn't know if, in the future, she would feel the same way about the mornings. She supposed that once she left.. Once she found her way out of this hell hole that she called home, things would change.

But not this.

Even in her weakest moments, even when it felt like the sun would not come up, she would never, ever forget this.

But all moments have to come to an end.

Downstairs, she heard the clattering of bowls, the shouting of her father, her brothers crying, shouting I'm sorry, I'm sorry! They were all up.

She pulled herself out of bed, groaning when the dizziness hit her, hit her from the same angle that her father had hit her the night before. She stumbled up, holding on to the walls as she tried to gain a sense of her reality. She moved passed the mirror that sat in her room, glancing at it on her way past.

Bruises. Cuts. Scars. Blood.

Great.

This would be a hard one to hide….

Some people would ask why… Why she hid them when she could tell the truth, the truth about the injuries, the truth about the scars that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

And she wouldn't have an answer.

Call her naïve, call her stupid. Call her whatever you want.

She's a girl with faith.

A girl with faith that her father could get better; a girl with faith that she and her brothers could get out of her alive; a girl with faith where others had none.

That's what her mother would have wanted. Teresa Lisbon's mother, died 6 years ago today, when she was just twelve years old. Her mother would have wanted them to have faith. Her mother would have wanted them to try and get through.

And they did. By all means necessary, she had gotten them through. Eighteen year old Teresa Lisbon, eighteen years young, her against the world.

She trudged down the stairs, the wreckage of the night before clear from the moment she came into view of the light. Blood, broken furniture, shards of glass and broken dishes sticking out of the walls, dirty washing strung over the entire house, the fridge upside down, blocking the kitchen door.

Her brothers, cowering under her father's knife.

The stern look on his face, his crooked teeth showing through the smile, the grimace that he put on display at their fear. His eyes, the monster within him showing through the shimmering green eyes that were replicated on her own face. His skin, the way it contrasted with theirs, the brown it held, the unnatural brown.

The brown of a million burning fires.

"STOP!" Her father turned, dropping the knife, and his grimace/smile/thing just grew wider as he saw her, saw the state that had had left her in.

Her matted hair. A chipped tooth. Blood covering her, head to toe. Bruises and cuts all over her face. A slice, so deep into her arm that he was surprised it hadn't killed her in the night.

She moved backwards, her breath accelerating as she knew what he was going to do.

"Dad, please"

He picked up the baseball bat that had been left by the door.

The smile never left his face.

**A/N- Well, this is a lot darker than the first chapter, and in case you hadn't guessed it's set when Lisbon was a child, a few months before her eighteenth birthday **

**Thankyou to everyone that reviewed, followed or added my story to their favorites, it means a lot to meee :) :) Please continue reviewing as it helps me know that people like the kind of way that I'm writing and the way the plot's heading and everything.**

**Thankyouu :) **


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